


Loki is a Singer (and the Avengers are a Boy-Band that Really Suck)

by Imoto, worstloki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU sort of, Banishment, Crack, Gen, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki (Marvel) sings about his issues, Loki is a singer, Not Canon Compliant, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Singer AU, The Avengers are a boy band now, The Boy Band Initiative, all those flyting genes and all, and Coulson is their manager, basically loki is a singer now, so anyways he's going to wind up building a career on his amazing vocals and instrument skills, so is a lot more dramatic and introspective than what I would have wanted, this is a crack and you're just going to have to deal with it, this is a crack please keep that in mind, well not NOW now but he's REAL good at singing and lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoto/pseuds/Imoto, https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstloki/pseuds/worstloki
Summary: The title is self-explanatory, but basically:As a punishment for his oh so horrible actions (but really only because Odin hates him) Loki is banished to Midgard to live out his life as a lowly mortal.Thankfully, Loki has a damn good voice, knows how to play a guitar, and has enough angst and drama to fill up piles of notebooks full of lyrics. Being a mortal isn't really an issue here because he still has his voice, talent, and a thousand years worth of practice making the best out of a not-ideal situation.The Avengers, on other hand, really suck at this game. LOKI of all people is performing gigs. And he's GOOD. Fury isn't happy. Odin neither. Loki may be the only one here enjoying himself.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Loki is a Singer (and the Avengers are a Boy-Band that Really Suck)

**Author's Note:**

> For your information, a couple of thing before you start reading:  
> This story came from a post on Tumblr, so technically should be a comedy, but in reality, life isn't all laughs and rainbows so this fic may end up a lot more introspective and a lot less funny that what it could be. It also could end up being just funny enough to make this crack idea work though. Here is the link to the post: https://fangirlsleep.tumblr.com/post/624904371022462976/loki-takes-his-cue-from-musicals-and-bursts-into  
> If you have any suggestions for what songs Loki would sing leave a comment and we'll try to include them in the story.  
> Do not expect quick updates but do expect them to be bountiful.  
> Thank you for your attention and enjoy your reading!  
>   
> 

In the great hall of Valaskjalf, at the foot of Hliðskjálf, Loki stands, smirking. There is silence, broken only by the clinking and rattling of the chains that _should_ be keeping the prisoner… well… imprisoned.

“I can do this all day, Odin. In fact, I can do this forever, Allfather. I have a rather long catalogue that I would be happy to perform.”

Of the six Einherjar that were supposed to keep Loki in place only one remains standing, two are half kneeling - one with the chain still in his hand - and the other three had fallen on their asses around mid-performance, so about five minutes ago.

“Take the prisoner to his cell.”

Odin's voice rumbles against the walls and reaches the high, decorated ceiling, filling the hall, but Loki doesn't flinch to the show of power; not anymore. 

Swiftly the guards stand, positioning themselves to escort the… prisoner? Prince? Disgrace? Villain? Nobody is sure of The Loki Situation at the moment, not with Odin having yet to declare a sentence.

“You should call the Thing next time. I'm sure that at least some of the officials would appreciate a change in the boring spectacles that are your hearings, Allfather.”

The butt of Gungnir hits the floor and the Einherjar that had slumped against the walls in the last hour straighten up. Loki snarls, spitting on the floor as the guards tug him toward the massive door - not that they could without his consent, he does it more for the scene than anything else, really.

The doors to the throne room close and Odin slumps on his throne, face in his hands. It is obvious at this point, after a month of daily hearings, that Loki is far too gone to put him under his influence again. Not without help.

“Find Queen Frigga Allmother, and tell her that King Odin Allfather needs her counsel.”

The nearest guard nods before disappearing in one of the servant hallways, humming a known melody.

Odin put his head in his hands again, thinking that perhaps it is already far too late.

\---

“I'm sure you're exaggerating, Husband.”

“Exaggerating? Frigga, only today I've heard three different servants sing!”

Frigga dismisses the words with a wave of her hand, turning around while picking at her flowers.

“Servants are servants, Odin, let them do what they want. And if their actions reach the point of indecency we will throw them out.”

“The Einherjar are asking—”

“Refuse them. Are you not King, Odin Allfather?”

He grits his teeth, but Frigga keeps stubbornly looking for her specific flower.

“Loki is far too gone, he is a menace to the kingdom and—”

“To the kingdom, Husband? Have you forgotten all the good that he has done for us in the past? Are you blind to all the good that he could bring to us in the future?”

“Frigga, don't—”

She turns around, face determined, eyes of fire.

“Let me speak with him.”

“No.”

“Then don't seek my council,” she turns around with a twirl of her dress, “if you want to have your son back I need to speak to him. Make Loki understand, otherwise nothing you do will be worth more than the dirt clinging against the bottom of my heel.”

Odin watches her walk towards the path that will take her to her Royal Chamber and closes his single eye. He then squints very hard and presses two fingers to his temple.

“ _Fine_. If you don't believe me, wife, then you can see for yourself.”

Frigga stops, turning around.

“Tomorrow, we will have a new hearing,” _hopefully the last one,_ Odin thinks, as he can feel the rage and disappointment rising from his belly at the idea to see another of Loki's spectacles again. “You are invited to assist.”

“And then I can speak to Loki?”

“We'll see…”

Frigga takes a couple of steps in Odins’ direction.

“And then I will speak with Loki.”

Taking a deep breath, Odin nods.

“You think that you could change his mind?”

“I know I can.” she smiles, covering the last few paces between them, a kind hand cupping his jaw. “I'm his mother, he will listen to me.”

Odin feels his shoulder slacken as Friggas’ arms embrace him. He knows that if there is anyone that can get through to Loki now it is her.

This is their last chance.

\---

As always, Loki parades into the throne room, the solid silence broken by the dingling of his chains. He is openly staring at Frigga, and Odin admits to himself that he is more than a little amused by the indifferent face that Loki is trying to maintain.

The guards stop at the same spot as always, between the third and the fourth column from Hliðskjálf, and Loki takes some time to look around. The crowd that had steadily grown in the last month was gone. No servants peep from the hallways, no maidens spy from the alcove and open windows, no more Einherjar than strictly necessary; the six handling his chains, the three protecting the King and the Queen, and the two at the door. 

The hall is almost empty.

Odin takes a moment to internally gloat over his cleverness; that after a month he has finally taken Loki by surprise. It is obvious that he hadn’t expected Frigga to participate in the hearing. 

Well, truth be told, this isn't even a hearing, but no need to rush to give that information to the little traitor.

Loki’s gaze returns to him, but instead of launching himself into one of his megalomaniac sung discourses about how he was unjustly treated and how Thor was the golden son and _blah blah blah,_ Loki is silent.

It takes exactly four minutes before Odin starts regretting forbidding Frigga to speak. 

Loki still gives no signs of wanting to start talking and the guards have started shifting from one foot to the other unsure of what to do of the new tense and voiceless situation. But then, unprompted, he starts humming. 

He’s humming. 

_Why_ is he doing this?! Was he not enough of a disgrace already? It seems he has no compunctions to simply being the worst!

“When I was…”

On the one hand the complete absence of any type of sound makes it incredibly easy to pick up on the murmuring of Loki.

“...a young boy…”

Frigga frowns, bringing down her eyebrows, and Odin smiles to himself: _apparently the silence was too much for Loki Silvertongue!_

“...my brother… told me he'd earn his hammer…”

Frigga shifts from her place, aborting at the last moment what was intended to be a step toward Loki. 

_Yes, let her see your madness too, let her see how far you have fallen!_ Odin thinks

“...and kill every jotun scum…”

Odin exhales deeply; another rant, magnificent.

“he said…Loki when, you grow up… will you _help_ …”

One of the guards at the door shifts closer, too far away to really hear Loki's voice with full clarity.

“...me wipe _all_ of them _out_...”

Odin squares his shoulders, noting something in Loki’s stare has changed. He does not know what but he doesn’t like it. Every afternoon he gets this same look in his eyes and Odin does not like it at all.

“ _Ev_ -er-y. _Sing-le_ . _One_.”

There was something oddly musical in the way that he pronounced the three words and for a moment Odin loses himself in thought trying to recall if in the last month Loki has sung this one before.

“He _said!_ Will _you! defeat_ _them_? Those _demons_? And all those vi-le creatures? The _plans_ that they have _made_?”

This time Frigga actually takes a step down the stairs, a hand reaching towards him.

“Loki, my son, wha—”

Loki doesn’t listen to her, his voice doesn’t waver, instead taking on a larger intensity to speak over her words. Odin knows full well what was happening; the same thing that happens _every time Loki was convocated for hearing._

“Because, _one day_ ! We'll beat them! _Together_ ! We'll wipe the _whole race_ out… and slay those monsters _all!_ ”

Odin feels his blood boiling in his veins, and jumps up from Hliðskjálf - never has Loki reached such levels of _insolence_ during a hearing before.

“You daRE ACCUSE—” 

Loki ignores him and a cacophony of instruments starts playing from nowhere, overpowering the rest of his sentence. 

“ _WHEN_ I _WAS!_ A YOUNG BOY!”

A hard note comes from the guitar in between Loki's hands that definitely hadn’t been between Loki's hands a second before.

“MY FATHER! TOLD!”

Another hard note.

“ME HE FOUGHT THOSE DEMONS!”

That guitar definitely wasn't an Asgardian guitar. Asgard doesn’t have guitars.

“AND STILL WANTS TO KILL THEM ALL!”

“SOMEONE GET THE MOUTHGUARD!” Odin’s cry breaks out as the music swells and Loki’s voice momentarily stops.

One of the Einherjar run towards the door and then out. Frigga remains watching, speechless, a hand hovering over her mouth, no doubt in incomprehensible horror.

“HE SAID: SON WHEN, YOU GROW UP, WILL YOU HELP, YOUR BROTHER SLAY THEM ALL!”

Mouthguard in hand, the guard returns and tries to tackle Loki to the ground, only to take the bridge of the guitar on his teeth as Loki turns and strums another chord.

“THOSE HORRID JOTUN BEASTSSSS!”

The double ‘R rolls out of his mouth, strong and deep, full of hate and resentment. Letting go of the chain, the nearest Einherjar picks up the discarded muzzle and makes an attempt to jump at him, but Loki side-steps him, half bent over the guitar for his solo.

“LOKI!” 

At this point a considerable party has collected at the door, watching the scene. Loki spins around and the guard hit in the teeth falls over again, hit on the head. The remaining four Einherjar, with only the fifth one clever enough to let go of the chain before it is pulled along with Loki as he spins, fling across the room in various directions while still holding the chains.

“soMETIMES-I-GET-THE-FEELING!”

Despite a few of the poor Einherjar nursing their heads from their rough flinging around, they are all still being hauled around by the chains they refuse to let go of.

“YOU-LIED-PRETTY-WELL-TO-ME!”

Einherjar No. 5 decides that losing his wit by hitting his head was a price too high to pay for stopping Loki to perform his song— especially considered that in the last month they have never succeed in stopping him —and steps back from trying to get a muzzle on, instead pulling an other Einherjar off the chain to get up and get away from the performance because he’s already hit his head twice today.

“AND-OTHER-TIMES-I-FEEL-I-SHOULD!” He plays a hard note at “HAVE!” and another hard note at “KNOWN!”.

Quickly, Loki stops spinning and the second Einherjar trips over the chain, letting go. The last one refuses to, getting flung around by Loki’s next spin.

“BUT THROUGH IT ALL, MY RISE AND FALL, THE STORIES WE WERE TOLD… BECAUSE NOW THAT I'M HERE I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOWWW...!"

In a show of incredible athletic spirit, the last Einherjar jumps, letting go of the chain to tackle Loki at the waist. Unfortunately, this doesn’t even make him stumble.

“I'VE MOVED ONNNNN! I'VE MOVED ONNNNNN!”

In a desperate attempt to muzzle him and follow the order of the Allfather, the Einherjar gropes Loki's shoulder picking himself up.

“Your lies were all but lies!” a spin to the right “to me you're all dead- and-goooone!” a spin to the left, and another guard moves out of the way. Guard No. 4 must admit that using an Einherjar as a waist cape has a certain _je ne sais pas quoi_. Or maybe that was the concussion talking.

“Your love was nothing but lies and wro0OOng!”. The chorus follows with an harmonious " _lies and wrong_ " followed by a bone shattering drum solo. More and more of the crowd is now openly watching the show and amassing in the back of the room. One of the Einherjar near the door even discreetly accepts a handkerchief from a lady, to wipe away his tears.

“CRIME-CAUSE-MY-HEART-”

Two steps forward, a spin, a step right and the Einherjar almost loses his grip on the prisoners’ shoulders (he’s been climbing). Loki’s foot definitely doesn’t lose the opportunity to hit Guard No. 3 in the chest.

“COULD-N'T CON-TAIN IT!”

Loki's voice wavers a little and more than a few maidens are now looking particularly touched by the performance. Frigga herself had a shine in her eyes. _Good Norns_.

“AND THEN MY MIND COULD-N'T EXPLAIN IT—” Loki’s voice breaks, and he pauses for a moment, allowing the Einherjar being pulled around by him from the neck to finally, _finally_ , put the muzzle over his mouth. 

Odin lets go an inconspicuous breath of relief as he leans back to Hliðskjálf and the tension seeps out of him. 

Then, he is startled by a short, polite set of applause followed closely by a roar from the crowd assembled at the door. Young ladies are crying themselves hoarse, pleading the Einherjar to pick out the mouthguard and let Loki finish his song. 

Odin clutches the armrests of the throne, _no, no no nononono!_ How could _no one_ see what he sees? That Loki is _dangerous_ and has long been _lost_ and _deviated_ and _NO!_

“TAKE THE PRISONED BACK TO THE HOLDING CELL! HIS TRIAL HAS BEEN POSTPONED!”

“Again, Your Majesty?”

The guard retreats under Odin's eye, full of fire and hate.

“Yes!” He answers, bristling and dry, but not less deadly, “it is postponed, again, until he stops doing whatever—” he waves his hand and gestures frantically in Loki’s direction, still basking in the crowd's admiration, “whatever _that_ was! And until we get a trial with a proper sentence and proper testimony that can be retold in the future without anyone questioning it. A sentence that will be spoken of in the taverns for an age to come, speaking of his shameful crimes. _Then_ we will put him officially in prison.”

The guard nods, taking up one of the lengths of chains scattered across the room and starts taking Loki out of the hall. In the guard’s opinion a lot more people will remember and retell the trial if it was full of singing pieces and witty remarks, but the opinion of the guards isn't a concern to Odin and doesn’t matter.

Once at the door, Loki stops, quickly turning around, and Odin is ready to get up and drag him down to the dungeon himself if the boy has any intention of extending this charade any longer— and then Loki gives a flourishing bow and then winks. 

At Frigga. 

Ignoring him, the _Allfather_ , completely.

The Einherjar whitened as they watched a stare full of the animalistic fury of the King, Odin Allfather, directed towards Loki before they managed to close the door and continue taking him away.

Gungnir cracks the floor in Odin's hand as he commands everyone _who should never have made their way here_ , to leave the throne room.

The instrumental base of the song still hasn't stopped.

\---

Loki isn't stupid, _oh no,_ he is probably the most intelligent person in all of Asgard — not that the bar was too high to reach — and Odins’ screams do always make their way to him through the music — and now that he thinks about it, it’s probably a family trait, that would explain Thor's booming voice. 

Oh he knows full well that the hearing of that morning wasn’t a trial. 

He smiles as he recalls the _execution hearing_ he’d attended today— beautiful by his standards. 

He regrets the cracking in his voice at the end and notes that he definitely needs to recalibrate the spell for the background music, as it would be otherwise overpowered by the guitar on any other song, but still, it was a very good show if he does say so himself. 

Again, not that the bar for a good show was extremely high on Asgard.

Tomorrow, he was sure Odin would put an end to this whole charade and sentence him. He could easily slip out of the cell, hide in the shadows and then take the secret paths away from Asgard, that’s always been an option… but whatever for would he do that?

Loki pushes a thumb against the opposing palm until he feels the skin break, and then releases a breath. He knows he’s going to be executed, so he’s allowed to be stressed even if he accepts it. There simply isn't any reason to be running away at this point. Better finish the pathetic show that was his existence here and now, possibly with a bang, and definitely not with a whimper, while he still has enough autonomy to make the choice.

Such a shame, there were so many songs that he had never had the possibility to perform, so many shows that would have shattered the frail conceptions of connotation Aesir have of him. A man, an agr, a monster, that not only practices seidr, but that publicly performs _singing_ and even a bit of dancing, _oh_ , how much he would love seeing again one last time the look of pure astonishment and distraught on the face of the court. 

But was that really such a surprise?

Loki snarls, alone in his cell, he _was_ a monster after all and monsters don't follow the careful constructed norms and laws of people, no, they destroy them, tearing them down from their foundation, crushing _everything_ they can under their heel, devouring and slaughtering and pulling the flesh of their enemies from their bones, and when blood drips from their chin they watch it wash over the soil and they laugh— Loki hisses at the little half-moons of blood slowly dripping from his hand. 

_Damn._

He presses a thumb over each small cut making sure they are no more. 

Better make a plan for tomorrow, if he will tear the flesh from Odin before being executed, he will do it elegantly, with a fork and a knife, slowly, savoring every second of Odin's agony. All he has to do is point out his hypocrisy before an audience; plant some seeds of doubt. Then it won’t matter if he dies and goes to Hel for taking so many lives even if he didn’t really have a choice because he’ll be able to know that Odin’s downfall is inevitable. 

And it won’t matter if he’s dead because he’s never been worth much anyways and because at least he’ll get to enjoy every second of the fate that awaits him. 

And to think, he’ll get to do that by doing something so simple as speaking the truth.

\---

The chains rattle against themselves. 

There is already a group of servants and nobles outside the door, waiting to see what will happen today, but Loki ignores them. There won’t be a performance today. His stage has been set. 

The crowd standing outside the throne room stares and points at the ten Einherjar escorting him, far more than the usual number. Loki ignores them.

The doors close behind him and the throne room is dark, grim, and empty. Of the usual guards of service at the throne none were around. Frigga stands at the side, hands worrying themselves and with a look of careful concern on her face. 

How clearly calculated. It may even have convinced him she cared if he didn’t already know the truth.

“Loki—” her tone is sweet, of honey and flowers, of promises of love and warm embraces and safety. It makes his stomach churn with hot, white rage. 

“Hello, mother.” 

She doesn't move, she doesn’t acknowledge the challenge in his tone, or maybe she just simply doesn’t care. “Have I made you proud?”

“Please, don't make this worse.”

He tastes bile at the back of his tongue and chokes it down with rage. 

“Define worse.”

**“Enough!”**

Odin, so scared not to be at the center of the attention, needing to be reminded of his power, as if his palace gilded in gold, within which his throne gilded in gold, upon which he sits in gold-alloyed armour, is not enough to do so — the King that needs to be constantly revered — or as Loki likes to think of it, _pampered_. 

He ignores him, his body still turned toward Frigga, waiting for an answer.

“I would speak to the prisoner alone.”

Odin's voice wavers with barely suppressed anger. Loki can feel it on his own skin.

Frigga looks at him one last time before turning to go. 

Such a dutiful wife, ready to answer the command of her husband even before one of her own childr— no, wait, not her own, not her _child_ , not _anymore_ . Not _ever_ , really. 

He shifts his attention to Odin again and, _oh_ , how happy the old, decrepit, senile man is to be again at the center of attention. Loki takes a couple of steps towards the throne, the Einherjar clever enough by now to follow him to avoid being hauled along.

_Show arrogance, show entitlement, show how far above all them you truly are._

Odin beats Gungnir to the floor and Loki stops, a dry laugh passing over his lips.

“I really don't see what all the fuss is about.”

_C'mon Odin, say it, admit it in front of your loyal guards, scream it until the servants and ladies and lords gathered outside your door hear it and retreat in shock!_

“Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes?” 

_Crimes? Oh, so he was still trying to keep up_ **_that_ ** _facàde._ A wave of burning fury washes over him and Loki clenches his fist _. Tear him apart, with a fork, and knife, slowly and elegantly, no need to rush._

“Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death.”

“I went down to Midgard to rule the people of earth as a benevolent god.” _and really Odin, how many times have we had this conversation now? It’s starting to become boring_. “Just like you.” 

That was the first cut, he can see it in the eye of the fool, his posture changes, his demeanor becomes more rushed and alert. Loki thinks he’s doing pretty good for improvising. Two lines in and already Odin is ready to ignore any accusations. The absence of any denials will cost him.

“We are not gods, we're born, we live, we die just as humans do.”

_Oh, the hypocrisy!_

“Give or take five thousand years?”

“All this because Loki desires a throne.” Odin gloats, _the fool, the idiot, ass, half wit buffoon that can only deceive and lie and trick_ —

“It is my birthright!”

“Your BIRTHRIGHT! Was to DIE! As a child—” _sanctimonious, vacuous, faithless, hypocritical_ _old man_ “—cast out onto a frozen rock.”

Loki bites his tongue until he feels the metallic taste of blood. No need to resort to insults. Being angry is reasonable here, all things considered, but let's not drop down to whatever sewage standard Odin is at, yes? 

“If I had not taken you in you would not be here now to hate me.”

_He hadn’t asked for that! What kind of 101 guilt-trip tactic is Odin trying to use on him? Does he think Loki is going to fall for that?!_

“If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake—” _too much, need to downplay it,_ “—just swing it.” 

_Calm, collected, arrogant._ _Knife and fork. Rip him apart from beyond the grave. Die to laugh another day. These are the cards he’s been dealt and he shall make the most of them._

“It's not tat I don't love our little talks, it's just...”

_Look him in the eye. For some extra drama._

“I don't love them.”

“Frigga is the only reason you’re still alive and you will never see her again.”

 _That bastard son of a fishmonger and a_ —

“You'll spend the rest of your days the same as the ones you've tried to conquer. Then, perhaps, maybe it will make you understand your errors.”

Loki takes a step back. Then another. The Einherjar pulls him and he follows. _What? This is not_ — _that's not the script! That wasn't supposed to_ — _Agh! Why doesn’t Odin just kill him now! Giving him a few decades is just condemning him to a slower death!_

“And what of Thor?” Your son, the golden Thor, perfect, immaculate, the example of all to all; only _three days,_ three days _he_ had gotten! 

“You will make that witless oaf King while I'm there?” He could work with that. Thor was easily manipulated and controlled. A little bit of regret here and a little bit of affection there, it would not require too much work. 

“Thor must strive to undo the damages you have done.” _And what about the damages done in Jotunheimr by his own hands and hammer?_ “He will bring order and peace to Midgard and the Nine Realms."

Odin straightens himself on the throne, obviously pleased with himself, Gungnir in his hand, mirth swimming behind the old wrinkly veil of his face.

“And then, _yes_ , he would be King.”

The Einherjer try to manhandle him but Loki refuses to move, gaze fixed on Odin, on the fool King that calls himself All-Father but in truth has not a fathering bone within him.

The chains rattle, the door squeaks as it is opened. People murmur, but everything they say is unimportant. 

He’s been dealt new cards, and as Loki follows those that pull his chains he doesn’t know what the future holds, but he knows he refuses to let others, _not even Odin Allfather_ , dictate anything for him. 

He’s suffered before. He’s been ready for death before. He’s regretted everything that came after. 

And now he refuses to let being mortal be a punishment. 

The script has burnt. This isn't how his part was supposed to go. And he needs a new plan, now. 

Preferably one that isn’t completely improvised.


End file.
